


This Is Why I'm Single

by jewboykahl



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, Kenny deaths... )-:, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewboykahl/pseuds/jewboykahl
Summary: Kenny learns pretty quickly that there's no such thing as a perfect first date.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch
Comments: 15
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to mention that i used to have a headcanon-ish kenny theory that he could break the fourth wall so that's where some of the dialogue comes from (i'm not crazy abt it anymore but i decided to leave it in there just cause)!  
> thanks for reading! <3

I really don’t think I have ever been this nervous in my life. How the fuck are you supposed to take someone on a date?

First, let me clear up some rumors. I am not a _man-whore_. Yes, I am not a virgin, but neither are most teenagers by their junior year of high school. I’ve slept with three people; and I really cared about two of them. So, if that’s enough to make me a slut, then I will proudly accept the title. But, to whatever bored asshole that went around telling people I pimp myself out to support my drug habit (which also doesn’t exist), you’re probably just jealous that you aren’t on short list of people I’ve fucked.

The only reason I bring this up is because it’s kind of killed my chances with this guy I’m taking out tomorrow before; Leo Stotch. Well, everyone calls him Butters, but his real name’s Leopold. I think it’s cuter.

I’ve pretty much always had a crush on him, but I finally decided to do something about it after he came out last year. After I waited a respectful amount of time for him to ease himself into being openly gay, I asked him out, and he was really awkward and distant about it, so I just figure he didn’t dig me like that. But, it turns out that he just didn’t want to get humped and dumped—because everyone thinks I just go around fucking anything that moves. Seriously, you get busted for having pornos in your locker _one time_. 

Anyways, I finally got him to give me a chance. It took a lot of convincing, because Leo isn’t one to let his guard down easily. I can’t blame him—he’s finally wised up to all the bullying and horrible treatment he had been subject to growing up. Now he’s extremely protective of himself. I promised him from the bottom of my heart that I genuinely like him and that I am not merely interested in performing sexual intercourse with him. On the first date, at least. I may not be a slut, but I'm not gonna deny myself. 

It’s about four o’clock on a Friday morning and I’m lying awake thinking about all the ways I’m gonna fuck this whole thing up tonight. While I’ve had a few relationships in the past, they never turned out exceptionally well (plus, I was only nine during one of them). Dating is not exactly my area of expertise, but, I’ve seen enough movies to know that dinner and a movie is pretty standard. There’s just one problem with that, though—I need everything to go _swimmingly_. I’m not going to get a do-over with Leo and if I completely screw this thing’s brains out, I can kiss that tiny piece of ass good-bye. And I really don’t think bluer eyes exist.

While Leo's interests are generally on the softer side of things (aka Hello Kitty), he loves Deadpool. I was surprised to see his extensive collection of comic books and two full-length posters in his bedroom (and that his parents did not lose their mind when they saw the foul-mouthed character proudly displayed in his bedroom). I figured seeing the new Ryan Reynolds _Deadpool_ movie was a sufficient way to jump start our relationship. Ten dollar tickets and a fifteen dollar dinner pretty much leaves me completely broke, but I know where my parents keep their money and have exactly zero qualms about “borrowing without permission” from them. The fifteen dollar dinner thing might be a guesstimation after all—I’m not even sure Leo eats. He’s about two-foot-five and weighs sixty pounds. Again, just a guesstimation, but he might as well.

It’s _so_ cute how small he is.

If anyone’s wondering at this point, I’m pansexual. No, I don’t _fuck pans_ , and if anyone (Cartman) makes that dumb joke to me again I’m going to lose my fucking mind. It means I don’t care what's in your pants or what your identity is, as long as your face and heart are nice. I’ll love whoever I fall in love with, or fornicate with anyone I feel the overwhelming need to fornicate with. Which, again, is not that many people.

As of right now, the only person on my mind is Leo. He’s always been so sweet and kind to me; even if my best friends are not. Instead of the poor kid, he looks at me and sees Kenny McCormick. He tells me I matter on a regular basis and looks absolutely adorable while doing it. I’ve never met someone with such a giving spirit and a kind heart, even if he is a bit smarter about whom he opens his generosity up to than in the past. He’s prefect in every sense of the word and I want him to be mine. Also, how adorable would unironically calling him _Buttercup_ be?

Alright, over 700 words is probably a sufficient amount of backstory. Let’s get to the good stuff.

After a notably stressful day of school and an agonizing four hours that I had to endure before six o’clock rolled around, I dress in my only pair of jeans that are littered with age-worn holes and new-ish brown fisherman sweater. My major flaws remain my uncooperative blond mop of curly annoyance and the perpetual smell of cigarettes that I give off. That probably wouldn’t be as overwhelming if I would stop smoking, but whatever. I'll die soon anyways. 

Literally.

I make my way down to the Stotch residence with my heart in my throat. I pray too all that is holy that Leo’s parents aren’t home—because I haven’t the slightest clue what lie he concocted to hide his very gay date with me tonight. I can only assume the folks that sent him to a pray-the-gay-away camp for being bicurious would not be overly thrilled about their son Netflix and chilling with a member of the same sex. Not that I personally cared, but I know he’s terrified of his dictators. I mean _parents_.

Speaking of terrified, I’m _sweating_. I’m so nervous about ruining this date and thus my sole chance with Leo that my armpits are sticky, and everyone knows that anxiety sweat is the worst smelling. _Great_ way to kick off the night. How the hell do I not have bitches lined up at my door?

Hesitantly, I tap on the door thrice with my knuckles. I swallow the lump in my throat as I step back and cast my gaze towards the concrete walkway. I really can’t believe I didn’t have nicer shoes than my generic, four year-old Converse that are three steps away from falling apart. What a _lady-killer_ I am.

I momentarily forget about how much I hate myself when I hear the door creak open. On the other side is Leo, all smiles and shining sky blue eyes. He’s got his oversized, white pullover hoodie with floral designs throughout the garment. His thin legs are clad in dark jeans and his red Vans match his hoodie.

“Well, don’t you look adorable.” I verbalize, praising myself a little for the lack of stuttering in my line. Especially considering I’m still drooling over him. 

Leo giggles and steps onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. Blush immediately colors his pallor cheeks. It makes my heart swell. “Thanks, Ken. I could say the same about you.”

“Why don’t you, then?” I quip with a smirk.

He rolls his eyes, sending me a grin despite himself. “You look adorable.”

“Awe, thank you!” I retort sardonically. I earn a playful punch to the shoulder and laugh softly when Butters does. My nerves begin to dissipate slightly now that the gorgeous boy is here with me, but that asshole in the back of my head keeps telling me I’m going to step on his foot or trip down the stairs. Or _die_. That would be perfect. “Ready?”

“Yup.” Leo confirms, popping the ‘p’.

I extend my arm lamely, obliging him to take it. “Let us be on our way, then.”

Blush darkening, Leo wraps his arm around mine and allows me to escort him down the steps and back onto the sidewalk. I know I’m being creepy, but God, I can’t look away from him. I’ve always known how cute he is but for some reason tonight he’s downright beautiful. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s agreed to go out with me; liking me is definitely one of the most attractive qualities in a potential partner.

“What’re you starin’ at?” Leo asks after I don’t even know how long of me ogling at him like an insane person.

I zone back into real life and let my lips curl into a smile, “You,” I admit nonchalantly, even though the twisting feeling inside my belly is pretty chalant.

Leo chuckles softly and cast his gaze forwards again. “What’s so good about me?”

“Are you kidding?” I scoff. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Haven’t you ever looked in the mirror?”

Leo cups a hand over his flushed face and laughs into his hand. “Stop making me blush.” he whines.

God he’s so _cute,_ and I’m doing a lot better than I predicted. I don’t want to jinx myself, but I start to think that _maybe_ this date will go on with minimal disasters. I lean over and gently take his hand in mine, drawing it away from his red face and grinning widely. “Why? It looks good on you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Leo tells me and, to my delightful surprise, does not pull his hand away from mine. The feeling of his creamy skin against my callused hands is pretty indescribable. “Everything looks good on you.”

“Guilty,” I joke, coaxing another giggle to fall from his lips. “So, what'd you tell your parents you were out doing?"

Leo lets out a breath, granting me an almost embarrassed side glance. "Studying with Kyle..." 

"Dude, that's a good one. Believable, and what parent is gonna complain about hanging out with the smartest person in our class?" 

"Right," Leo chuckles, stowing his gaze to our synchronous footsteps. "Not that they'd be surprised if I'd be hanging out with you. Well, they know you're one of the only kids at school that I actually like." 

I simper, the new information easing the semblance of fear I had of Mr. Stotch busting down my door in the middle of the night and strangling me. _That_ would be a first in terms of my deaths. "So, they'd be cool with this?" I raised our entwined hands.

His blue eyes widen, "Uh, I don't know about that one, Ken, but I sure as heck don't wanna find out."

"It's a joke," I assure him, "We don't have to tell them 'til we get married."

"Deal," Leo shorted, leaning into me a little as we turn the corner. My heart speeds up at the contact, "Except I still think you're on the hook with Stan or marriage. Remember when we dared you two to pretend to have a wedding and you had to put on that dress?" 

I bark a laugh, "Fuck, I forgot about that. Stan was definitely a little drunk or he would not have let that happen."

“Truth or dare with you fellas is wild,” Leo chuckles, and I'm only a little preoccupied by our fingers mutually lacing together.

I want to let out an obnoxious squeal to signify the feelings gushing inside me, but instead I say, “I find it kinda sad that Mrs. Marsh and I are the same size.”

I was thankful for how easy it was to talk to him despite the territory we were verging into. Considering that we’ve been pretty close friends for years, I'm not surprised, but it is relieving. It was like old times, but with more blatant flirting and hand-holding. What a wonderful upgrade. This whole date thing seems to be going pretty great. That is, until we get to the theater.

“Two tickets for Deadpool.” I request politely and slide the guy a twenty.

He considers my appearance for a brief moment, but as soon as his eyes land on Leo his eyebrows raise. “Aren’t you a little young to be seeing this movie?”

“No, I’m seventeen.” I reply quickly. This ticket guy has always been a dick. If he doesn’t let us in because Leo is sixteen, I’m going to break his legs.

“And you’re trying to take a fourteen year-old to see it. Nice try.” He retorted and passed the money my way again.

Leo pinches his eyebrows together, “Hey, I’m sixteen!”

I internally sigh. I really wish he would have lied. As predicted by myself, the ticket guy smirks, “Regardless, you’re still too young to see this movie.”

“Seriously? He’ll be seventeen in, like, two months.” I push back angrily. My anxiety levels are rising now as my perfect plan is beginning to crumble before me. “Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m just doing my job, kiddos.” His patronizing tone shows that he does not appreciate my language. “You can see Batman vs. Superman, though. It’s much more appropriate for you little guys.”

I inadvertently let my voice raise, “Nobody wants to see another shitty DCEU movie! I don't care how hot Henry Cavill is!”

“Ken—Ken, calm down,” Leo tells me in a soothing tone. I glance down to meet his eyes when he holds my sweater's sleeve. “We can do something else. It’s okay.”

It’s _not_ okay, but what am I going to do—beat up the ticket dude or sneak in? I shot him one last death glare before swiping my money from the window and let out a long sigh. “Let’s go.”

The disappointing ambiance lasts for a few minutes before we decide to grab a bite to eat. I pump myself back up after the minor setback and grin down at Leo, who seems to be generally unfazed by the lack of the movie. “Where to?”

Leo hums, chewing on his cheek. “Chinese food sounds pretty.”

I nod, “Let’s go to Shitty Wok. Maybe I'll get an employee discount.”

He laughs softly at my obvious jab at how poor business is, “Right after you get a W-2.”

"And he figures out my name isn't Dennis," 

Continuing down the pavement, we joke back and forth. Holding his hand again and laughing with him makes me forget about the stupid asshole that wouldn’t let almost adults see an R-rated movie. That is, until we find that City Wok is closed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I exclaim. “Why can't they close this early on one of my shifts?”

“Maybe Mr. Kim’s having another mental breakdown…” Leo deadpanned.

“You’ve got to be joking.” I carp. This was second in an indubitable series of bad omens. I knew this date would turn south—now everything I planned on doing is _not happening_. Why does the universe hate me?

“It’s okay, Ken!” Leo tells me in an amused tone. I stare back at him with a pouting expression anyways. “Why are you stressing so hard about this?”

“I don’t know,” I admit with a sigh and peer up at the dark sky, half-hoping God would just strike me down now to avoid acknowledging my feelings and the heat rising to my cheeks. “I really wanted this to be perfect. I wanted to do one thing right, so you don’t think I’m just some kind of whore that just wants you for your body, because I really don’t, I like you a fuck ton. We were going to go to the movies, and I was gonna treat you and laugh with you, hold your hand the whole time, and then we were gonna go to dinner and I was gonna be all polite and push your chair out for you—“

My rant is suddenly cut off by cold hands on my cheeks and lips upon mine. My heart goes screeching into overdrive and my eyes practically bulge out of my head. The feeling is unlike any other—and it fucking shocks me. I didn’t know a simple kiss could ignite my entire body like I swallowed a match. I didn’t know how much I adored Leo Stotch.

When he drags away from the impromptu kiss, he simpers up at me with wide, sincere eyes and smiles. “Ken, as long as I get to be with you, the date is always going to be perfect.”

The words filter into my brain and I replay them over and over. My spirits soar and my mouth pulls into a stupidly wide grin, "Damn, if I had known all it takes is a gay little speech to get you to kiss me, I'd have acted more like Kyle this whole date."

Leo rolls his eyes and at my comment as I pull him into a tight embrace. I close my eyes and relish in the feeling of his tiny body pressed up against mine. He fits so uncannily against me that it doesn’t even make sense that we weren’t together before this moment. I plant multiple noisy kisses to his temple and obsess over the way he squirms and shrieks with giggles. “God, could you be any fucking cuter?”

“Could you be any sweeter?” He fires back and lets me wrap him up tightly.

I hum while pressing my nose to his cheek. “Probably,”

“I don't think so,” Leo promises me with a smile. “Thank you for trying to take me to the movies and dinner, Ken. I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend my night.”

This was like a fucking dream. Cheesy as it is, I’m considering pinching myself to make sure I’m awake. And alive. My smile is all teeth and my chest is all giddy feelings. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

We giggle into another lingering kiss. Fuck, I could seriously do this all day. His lips are intoxicatingly sweet, his body addictive. I want to meet every inch of him and sear it into my memory. I want to fall so in love with this boy that I’m starting to kiss him like I already have. Neither the chilling breeze picking up as night comes over our town or our quite public position fazes me as we explore one another's mouths for the first time. 

Much too soon, Leo withdraws from me, and I make an mental note of how he's forced to lean up on his toes to reach my face. He grants me a big, beautiful smile that takes up his whole face and that I definitely don't deserve, "I hope you know I always liked you." 

I shrug, "I mean... I didn't, but thanks." 

"I'm sorry I rejected you last year," Leo's happy expression swiftly transforms into a sad one, "I just didn't want people to take advantage of me no more and I had just heard all these things about you, but it was so stupid of me to actually believe them. Even if those things were true, I should have just remembered how amazing of a friend and person you are and known that you would never hurt me." 

Admittedly, these confessions both stroked my ego and soothed my reservations about the date and messing it up so badly. The grins returned to our faces, "You don't need to apologize, you don't owe me anything. I'm just happy you gave me a chance," 

"I'm happy you exist."

We decide to find a less prominent place that ShiTiPa Town to continue making out, and I feel happier than I’ve been in literal ages as Leo holds my hands and curls his arm around mine. I kiss his head and sigh contently. “You know, if we would have—“

My words are cut off a second time that night, but this time not by a pair of lips. This time, of all goddamn things in Colorado, a fucking air conditioner unit falls from a three story window above our head and makes me a bloody splatter on the concrete. The last thing I hear is a horrified screech from Leo followed by a desperate calls of my name. The world around me quickly fades away.

A few moments later, I die and end up in a very familiar, very hot, very annoying place. There’s nothing but smoldering rocks and random patches of fire. There was a constant smell of burning carcasses and loop of tortured screams. I let out an irritated groan and spin around to see the ten foot, insanely built, red-skinned fallen angel. “Are you fucking serious?”

Satan sighs heavily, his voice booming, “Ah, seriously, dude? Wasn’t tonight you date with Butters?”

“Yes!” I exclaim and kick a burning pebble.

He shakes his head. “Your timing is so inconvenient.”

“Tell me about it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two bc butters needed some closure!

Even though I was summoned to Hell to help Satan’s new boyfriend find his stupid hellhound in the middle of my first date with my long time crush, I wake up in my bed and feel a swell of serenity in place of my usual existential dread. I allow my lips to curl into a huge grin at the memories of making out with Leo. I don’t know who he’s been kissing (maybe he took a little off the top of his kissing prostitution ring), but he really knows what he’s doing.

More than that, it’s him. The thought of him now makes my heart rate climb even higher than it had before. Now, I want to trace my name against his arms as we fall asleep together. I want to study the way his eyes move around the room, huge and happy and full of curiosity (although, I still feel considerably guilty every single time I look in his eyes and see a huge scar across his right one). I want to learn every single trait, annoying habit, hope, fear, detail of Leo.

Fuck, am I in love?

I push that horrifying thought away and get dressed, not even knowing whether or not it’s time to go to school. Generally, I can’t fall asleep after a good ole fashioned death, anyway. On exiting my bedroom, I bypass my horizontal father in the hallway and head to the kitchen to datermine whether or not I need to pick up breakfast for my little sister. When I’m surprised to find the bacon and eggs I purchased for us had remained in their ‘hiding place’, which is really just a drawer in the fridge my parents don’t usually look in. I peer at my half-charged flip-phone to see that it’s only six in the morning, but decide to cook anyways.

After enduring a slew of obscenities from my prepubescent sister in protests of interrupting her sleep early, eating some mediocre bacon and eggs (nothing compares to Mr. Marsh’s), and refilling my pack of cigarettes from my parent’s stash, my sister and I begin the chilly trudge to the bus stop. Anticipation caused me to snip at her until she hurried up, but I couldn’t help the excited nerves bubbling in my chest at the prospect of seeing Leo again. However, I quickly learn that I have nothing to be excited about.

“Hey, Kenny,” Stan greets Karen and I first, as always. I frown to myself when I immediately notice him swaying back and forth. I make a mental note to take care of that situation later.

I slip past Kyle and Cartman, who barely breathed a greeting as they debate passionately about something, and make my way to a baby blue Columbia jacket-clad Leo playing a game on his iPhone. I grant him a smirk and take my place beside him, “Hey, Buttercup.”

I’m acknowledged with nothing more than a scrunched nose and a scarce, furious glance. Leo remains focused on Doodle Jump and turns his back to me.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” I can’t think of a better thing to ask, though I probably should have as I see his chest rise and fall angrily.

Leo twists his neck to all-but grunt, “You are.”

My heart sank, beginning to connect the dots. I want to kill myself again when I recall a certain event that interrupted our date the night prior, and how a certain someone does not remember when that certain event occurs (even if it’s multiple days in a row). I feign for confusion anyway, pressing on, “Well, what’d I do?”

“Are you kidding?!” Leo spouts, turning to face me with reddened cheeks. I’m thankful for his complete and utter lack of a poker face, though I am not particularly used to his occasional rage being projected against me. “You stood me up last night!”

I didn’t think my heart could sink any lower, but I’m constantly surprised by my supremely shitty life. My first kiss with a boy I actually have strong feelings for, that meant so much to me and kept me going through another disheartening visit through Hell, the one my entire heart and body wanted to replicate over and over again so badly, didn’t even happen in his mind. All I want to do is scream in frustration, but instead I pinch my eyebrows together and lie with ease, “What are you talking about? Our date is tonight,”

Although Leo falters at this suggestion, he remains firm, “No, you were supposed to pick me up last night!”

I shake my head, “No, yesterday was Thursday, I said Friday.”

Butters tossed his hands in the air, “I thought you worked Friday nights and that’s why you could only do it Thursday!”

Fuck, this one is going to be a bit more difficult to weasel my way out of. The only person who usually cares enough to catch on the discrepancies in my excuses for disappearing at crucial moments is Stan, but those moments are rare anyways. I maintain a frazzled composure, shrugging for emphasis, “I just thought I told you I had to switch days with someone, I’m really sorry.”

My vaguely less irritated friend pauses, thinking about to a nonexistent memory of myself giving him this information. His expression swiftly becomes sheepish, “Well, gee, Ken, I must have forgotten…”

“I’m sorry if I forgot to tell ya,” I say with a grin, containing the huge exhale of relief building up inside me and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I would never stand you up.”

Leo relaxes into my touch, returning my smile and appearing relieved himself, “I sure hope not.”

“So, guys, how’d the date go?” Kyle inquires, seeming to have regained his ability to think about something other than how annoying Cartman’s ignorance is.

“It’s tonight,” Leo informs him, glancing up at me expectantly.

I nod and quickly quantify the statement as my friends are aware of my work schedule, “Yeah, had to switch around shifts at work.”

Kyle nodded in understanding, “Gotcha. Hey, did you guys hear about that kid getting killed by a falling air conditioner last night?!”

“Dude, what?” Stan almost slurred.

I light up a cigarette as my four closet friends engage in talks of my death last night with no inkling of an idea that it was me.

_

After an almost perfect rerun of our conversation from Leo’s house to the movie theater for death date part two, I warn him on approaching the theater, “Dude, do not say that you’re sixteen, okay? They won’t let us see it,”

Leo sends me a frown, “Well, I ain’t that dumb, Ken.”

Dumb? No. Forgetful and somewhat impulsive? Yes, and adorably so.

A female employee is tucked inside the ticket booth before South Park’s one and only movie theater, sipping on a coffee from Tweek Bros next door. She grants us a disinterested scowl before rehearsing, “How can I help you?”

“Two tickets for Deadpool.” I announce, ignoring the continued déjà vu as I slide a twenty dollar bill her way. 

Without question, she exchanges my currency for two tickets and a few bucks in change. We say a quick thank you and head into the theater. Leo bustles off to purchase popcorn as I find us a seat in the middle of the almost completely empty theater. Round two is going significantly better so far, so perhaps I’ll just chalk my death last night up to Satan’s gay will working its magic. The fact that the course on the night has changed also makes me significantly less nervous of Leo continuing to poke holes in the theory of me apparently standing him up.

I have tried to tell my friends in the past that I actually do die. When we played superheroes, I truly thought creating my Mysterion identity would help me to finally express the actual curse that I possess that makes me immortal. After putting on a huge scene about my powers, doing my best to convince them that I actually _have_ a power, shooting myself in the fucking head a few times, everyone still greeted me the same the following day, as if nothing happened.

I would probably just kill myself if I could without waking up in my shitty house immediately following. Anyways, I’ll stop exposing my pseudo-suicidal thoughts, Leo’s walking towards me.

My adorable fellow blond plops down beside me, handing me a drink and grinning, “I got you Sprite,”

I grin at Leo’s recollection of my prefer soda, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

He flushes at the term and chews a few pieces of popcorn before inquiring, “So, what made you wanna ask me out?”

I’m equal parts relieved at the new conversation flourishing and frustrated that I cannot just lean over and taste the butter on his lips as I answer honestly, “I just really fuckin’ like you. I’ve had a crush on you forever.”

“Really?” he asks, continuing when I nod in conformation, “Well, I didn’t know you had a crush on me that long. I wish I woulda known.”

“Why’s that?” I can’t believe I can’t kiss him right now, as he nervously peers between me and the snack sitting on his lap, cheeks red and lips grinning giddily.

Leo shrugs, “I dunno, I just… Well, I always, _always_ had a crush on you.”

My chest flutters at this confession. I copied his earlier inquiry, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly, fixing his stare at an indiscriminate location in front of us. “I always thought it was sorta obvious, since I always told everyone you’re my favorite person in our class… It’s still true, Ken. You’re still the only kid I actually truly, really like. I mean, everyone’s gotten better, I suppose, but you have stayed the same sweet, funny, kind, really great person.”

Heart and ego continuing to swell, I hang on to every word before replying, “Trust me, if I knew being obsessed with Kim K’s ass was a desperate attempt to be straight, I would have asked your perfect self out a long time ago.”

Leo giggles again, and it’s way too cute. Wetting his lips, he lets me know, “I just wanna say I’m sorry for saying no to this last year… I just heard all these things about you, y’know, and I’m trying to stop being so naïve and lettin’ people walk all over me. Plus, you’re _you_ , and I never wanted us to just be a one-time thing,”

Residual aggravation for these rumors wells inside of me, and I nod my head in dejected understanding, “No, I get it Leo, you don’t owe me anything. Who wants to lose it to a poor slut?”

“Hey,” Leo shoots me a glare, “You’re not a poor slut. I was gonna say I’m really sorry for being so stupid to actually believe all those dumb rumors. I mean, even if those were true, I just know that you would never hurt me, because you’re an amazing friend and person.”

I grant him a pleased grin, “So, you don’t want this to be a one-time thing?”

“Definitely not,” Leo admits.

I reach over and scoop his hand up in mine, the butterflies in my stomach intensifying when he weaves his fingers into mine. Before I can gush about how utterly perfect he is and how much I adore him, the feature film begins and his attention is taken by the much more attractive immortal on the big screen.

_

God absolutely fucking hates me. Why won’t he just let me die?

In the middle of my three-month anniversary date with Leo, I got ran over by a fucking car and died. This is the fourth time I have died while hanging out with my relatively new boyfriend, and each time I was forced to overextend myself to provide an explanation for the thought in his mind that I either stood him up or disappeared in the middle of spending time with him.

I am definitely not going to be able to fake my way out of missing something on a date that he definitively knows about and is important to him. When I routinely find myself lying in bed after a bright, white light blinds me, I sit straight up and punch a hole into the poster beside my bed.

“Damnit,” I scoff, immediately regretting my idiotic exertion of anguish toward my fucked up situation.

I immediately make the potentially equally idiotic decision to get up and trek to Leo’s house. I’m clad in the same, boring black sweatpants and plain, white t-shirt that I always wake up in, and I barely remember to snatch my jean jacket off of my dresser before ambling out of the door. In the past, I would slip out of the window or use the giant hole in my closet’s wall to sneak out, but as a near adult, I have no fear of my parents punishing me in any way.

During the walk, my rage warms me and my chain smoking soothes my nerves. The journey isn’t long, but it’s long enough to notice how freezing Colorado nights are. I put out my second and unfinished cigarette on approaching the Stotch residence and shimmy up the drain pipe to reach my boyfriend’s room. All of the lights in the house have been shut off, including his. I ignore my final instinct that this is a terrible plan and tap on the window.

Moments later, a horrified Leo approaches the window. His expression instantly becomes cloaked in disappointment when he sees it’s me. Despite this, he steps over and forces the window ajar. Even his furious demeanor couldn’t distract me from checking him out in his loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt and plain, black boxers.

“What the hell are you doin’, Ken?!” Leo whisper-shouts, allowing me to fall onto his carpeted floor before he secured the window shut again. He rubs away the goosebumps that dot his bares arms from the chill I brought in.

“I want to talk to you about tonight,” I huff, just now realizing how winded I am from the climb (and the excessive smoking).

“Well, that’s great, ‘cause I wanna talk about how we should break up.” Leo asserts, breaking my heart a little.

The torment my immortality has caused me my entire life has finally reached its peak. I have grown far too accustomed to physical pain and even decided to be fearless instead of overly cautious since I’ll be rendered temporarily deceased either way. Missing out on something like being in a relationship with Leo because of it, however, crosses a horrible, far too excruciating line that I cannot forgive.

I clench my jaw, seemingly intimidating my boyfriend as if we were Mysterion and Chaos again. “You know what? I am fucking done pretending. Wanna know why I disappear or stand you up, Leo?! It isn’t because I forget, it isn’t because I don’t want to be there, it isn’t because I’m not fucking head over heels in love with you, it’s because I fucking _die_ ,”

Leo clearly wants to insert a response, his lip quivering and his eyes brimming with confusion, but I press on, “Our first date, I got flattened by an air conditioner after we made out and I had to go on the next day like the most awesome thing that ever happened to me _didn’t_ happen. Then, someone tried to mug us when we went to the park, and shot me dead. I told you that I had to leave and pick up Karen, but I was actually in Hell because that fucking asshole Damien heard about the last time I got summoned there in the middle of our date and thought it would be a funny prank,”

Not a soul was used to me talking this much, especially considering the last time anyone gave me this much dialogue was season fourteen. Leo’s dumbfounded now, perhaps unable to catch a breath before I keep ranting, “I die all the fucking time. I always have, and it’s because I’m a fucking Cthulhu demon baby or some shit, I don’t even know. But, nobody ever remembers! The only person who actually does is Cartman, and even if he backed me up nobody would believe him because he’s a lying piece of shit! Not to mention it fucking _hurts_! You watched a mugger take out a pistol and shoot me in my head and you were mad at me the next day for running off during our date. I know you aren’t going to believe me, but I can’t take coming up with stupid excuses anymore. I’m immortal, Leo, _I can’t die_. If you still don’t want to be with me, that’s fine, but you have to believe that I want to be with you more than anything in this world.”

Leo remains frozen in time, his sole moving feature being his eyes flicking between in search of any traces of humor. When he finds none, he asks in a heavy whisper, “Kenny… What in the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“For fucks sake,” I moan, clapping a hand over my face. How the fuck am I supposed to prove I’m immortal? I would just jump out the window neck first (Leo style), but he wouldn’t fucking remember. I’m breathing heavily, and I think that Leo said something to me, but I can’t tell what it was as I frantically piece together my second shitty plan of the night. “Where’s your dad’s hunting gear?”

“Uh, why?” Leo insists.

“Garage?” I assume, taking strides to Leo’s bedroom door.

“Ken—Slow down, now, what are you—“

“Come with me,” I interrupt as I exit his door, remaining aware of my sound level for my boyfriend’s benefit. I’m sure at least seventy percent of his panic is rooted in the fear of me awaking his parents and earning him at the very least a prolonged lecture about respecting people’s sleep. “Get your camera ready.”

Multiple questions are thrown my wall, all of which I ignore as we trace through the Stotch residence and to their garage. I give myself no time to rethink my upcoming antic, as I’m at my absolute wit’s fucking end with these “powers” I have. Making a beeline for the industrial, metal storage cabinet as Leo flicks on the lights, I discern a particularly un-Leo-like sentence from his rambling.

“You have to tell me what the fuck is going on!”

I throw him a glance over my shoulder, “I’m going to prove it once and for all.”

Looking back at the cabinet, averting his adorably flushed cheeks, I ignore another follow up question and grunt when I find a padlock impeding my mission. I spin on the balls of my feet to face Leo, demanding, “Where’s the key?”

“Why do you need the key, Kenny?! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to shoot myself and you are going to record it on your phone,” I reveal my plot, if nothing else than to get him to stop the incessant line of question (though I suppose it is completely deserved). “Where are the keys?”

“Wh-What?” Leo’s face drained of all color in the blink of an eye. “You can’t… Why, Kenny? Why do you want to kill yourself?”

“Christ, Leo, I don’t want to kill myself, but it’s the only way you see that I’m not lying!” I assert, continuing to scan my surroundings for an alternate means of entry. Wetting my lips, I trace over to the wall and remove a sledge hammer from its hook. 

“What are you—“

Leo gasps loudly when I raise the tool over my head, bringing it down hard against the padlock before he gets a chance to stop me. Am I insane? I feel like this is probably what an insane person would do, but honestly, you’d be insane, too, if you died at least three hundred times in the span of seventeen years.

I pry the broken lock from the cabinet’s door, swinging it open and examining the camo attire, piles of ammunition organized on a shelf, and what I was looking for: small, black pistol adjacent to a large hunting rifle. Grabbing the weapon and a few bullets from beneath it, I’m shaken by to reality by a firm grasp on my arms.

“Stop!” Leo urges me with a panicked croak. Tears are falling freely down his cheeks, horror and shock etched into his usually soft and kind features. “Kenny, please!”

“I have to do this!” I exclaim, physically overpowering my boyfriend to slide the bullets into the chamber with shaky fingers. “I have to make you believe me, or else you’ll leave me!”

“I do!” He cries, putting both hands on my cheeks to coax my stare into lining up with his. I don’t even recognize my own waterworks until Leo mops away the moisture from my cheek bones with his thumbs. I’m somewhat caught off guard by the dominance in his composure and unwaveringly solemn tone, “I believe you, Kenny. I believe that you’re cursed the way you say you are.”

I sputter, hating the way the sentence clumsily falls from my lips, “I just have to show you so you know I’m not making it up, I know you think I’m crazy,”

Leo stifles another onslaught of tears, laser-focused on my face despite my attempts to wriggle free. The sleek weapon remains in my firm clutch, my chest aching, desperation passing over me in a way I’ve never experienced before.

“I swear, Ken, I believe you,” Leo promises in the more tender tone ever directed toward me in my life. Despite the alarm evident on his face and in his eyes, he continues to talk me down, “I believe you. But please, please don’t make me see it… I-I can’t watch you die, even if I don’t remember any of the other times, I just can’t let you, I can’t handle it, I just… I-I love you, please don’t hurt yourself!”

“What?” comes my stupid, immediate and uncontrollable response.

Leo purses his lips together, a small, strangled chuckle escaping his nose before he opens his mouth to repeat, “I love you, Kenny. P-Please don’t hurt yourself,”

My world stops spinning in a way that makes me queasy and filled with dread, and begins revolving around the perfect, sweet blond boy before me, telling me he loves me after I just freaked out on him and tried to kill myself. In my state of pleasant disbelief, I let the pistol fall from my fingertips with a clatter and swoop down without a thought, taking the sides of Leo’s face in my shaking hands and forcing our lips together.

The kiss is one of unmatched passion, every ounce of my being pouring into the one action. I want to shudder at how much I love the feeling of his fingers embedding in the curls on the back of my neck, but I remain steady, fearing the slightest movement could end the moment. Our eager lips moved in unison, touching and holding one another, emotions still stinging our eyes.

Reluctantly, I withdraw, chest heaving as I whisper, “If that didn’t make it clear, I love you, too,”

A bright, happy grin spreads across Leo’s face. Sniffling, he raises a hand to swipe tears from beneath my eyes, “I can’t believe my boyfriend is immortal.”

I sigh a laugh at the cruel joke the universe has played on me since birth, but as I gaze into his eyes I question, “You seriously believe me? You don’t want any proof?”

“Well, it does it explain a whole lot. ‘Cause it would be like I turn around and you’re just gone… And knowing you, and how you love me, it didn’t make sense that you would leave me alone or forget about me,” Leo explains, wetting his lips, “But, I also know you would never lie to me or hurt me. Well, you’re the best person I know, Ken.”

It’s as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulder. Not only does Leo knows the worst aspect of my life, he doesn’t think I’m a crazy person, and he _loves_ me. “You’re definitely the best person in the world. Thank you for believing me… I know it’s crazy.”

“Dude, do you not remember Mint Berry Crunch?”

I blink, momentarily filled with rage, “Yeah, I remember fucking Mint Berry fucking Crunch.”

Leo chuckles, “Just… be patient with me and talk to me… I don’t know how to be there for you with this, but I want to. I want to be with you and understand you.”

“You’re all I want,” I sigh happily as he presses his forehead to mine. “And I’m really sorry for the impending grounding I caused by busting up your dad’s cabinet up.”

He shushes me, pressing his smile against mine. I relish in our amazing, bizarre relationship as we make out in his garage, a loaded gun beside us, tears staining our cheeks, the town of South Park sleeping soundly in the middle of the night. I’ve never been happier or felt more complete, and even if I died right this second, I know things would be okay. God may fucking hate me, but Leo doesn’t, so I’d say life is actually pretty great. 


End file.
